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They swarmed past him, they raced on into the distance, and Sean O'Donohue struggled to a sitting position. His shoes were shreds. Dinies had torn them swiftly apart for the nails in them. His garters were gone. Dinies had operated on his pants to get at the metal parts. His pockets were ripped. The bright metal buttons of his coat were gone. His zippers had vanished.
They ate bolts, nuts, the nails out of shoes, pocket knives and pants buttons, zippers, wire staples and the tacks out of upholstery. Gnawing even threads and filings of metal away, they made visible gaps in the frames and moving parts of farm tractors. Moreover, it appeared that their numbers previously had been held down by the paucity of ferrous compounds in their regular diet.
To begin with, bandages made clothes that had fit comfortably before so snug they would have been hard to get into even if she'd had her hands free instead of in casts. As it was, the effort of just getting them on, not to mention closing the buttons and zippers she preferred to magseals, was more of a challenge than she appreciated right then.
"A man who's lost his space papers ain't going to take a chance at getting caught by the Solar Guard, busting the void with a rocket ship and no papers." He stopped, and his small gray eyes twinkled. "Unless," he added, "you've got quite a strike lined up!" "Hey, Loring!" yelled Mason, entering the café. He carried two spaceman's traveling bags, small black plastic containers with glass zippers.
The gambler bought Alan new clothing, modern stuff with self-sealing zippers and pressure buttons, made of filmy clinging materials that were incredibly more comfortable than the rough cloth of his Valhalla uniform. York City seemed less strange to him with each passing hour; he studied Undertube routes and Overshoot maps until he knew his way around the city fairly well.
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